The Last Witch

What does it take to burn a witch? Legally, in 18th-century Scotland, a confession was needed. In practical terms a barrel, a noose and a quantity of tar were also required – along with someone to pull the rope and then light the fire.

These grim details emerge during Rona Munro’s gripping, poetic new play for Edinburgh International Festival, which offers a fictionalised account of the fate of Janet Horne, the last woman to be executed for witchcraft in Scotland.

Little is known about the woman in question aside from the date and location of her death (1727, Dornoch), and by filling in the many blanks Munro has created a tremendous character and a compelling drama.

The Janet played here by the magnificent Kathryn Howden is no misunderstood herbalist. Neither is she a free-spirited eccentric persecuted by a mob driven to barbarity by superstitious fears. Rather, she’s a feckless, selfish and at times cruel widow providing for herself and her daughter by running a kind of supernatural protection racket.

That’s not to say she doesn’t have the power to bewitch. Indeed, when the local sheriff pays a visit in response to a complaint from one of her ‘cursed’ victims he is quickly reduced to a snivelling wreck, and seduced soon after. She doesn't seem to need any help from the devil.

It's easy to see why neighbours might lose patience with such a woman, and indeed adopt a policy of better safe than sorry when her professed powers appear to be threatening their livelihoods. But as the opening of play's second half communicates so powerfully, we're not talking about an ASBO application here.

Dominic Hill's production offers the chance to see some of Scotland's best actors get their teeth into a substantial text that's laced with gallows humour so dark the audience might not always dare to laugh. Andy Clark plays the Dornoch witch-finder, and his scenes with Howden are electric. Hannah Donaldson adds another excellent performance to her CV as Helen, who may be disabled and emotionally abused but has nonetheless inherited plenty of defiance from her mother, while Ryan Fletcher continues to demonstrate his impressive range in an enigmatic role.

There's certainly magic in the air. Some might disapprove of Hill pinching the odd scare tactic from Hollywood, or be unmoved by his sensory sorcery, but such flourishes are used in moderation alongside subtly chilling projections. There's a creepy hint of Japanese horror to Donaldson's movements, but the result is spine-chilling rather than jump-out-of-your-seat stuff, which is just as it should be.

The phrase “witch hunt” is, of course, still in everyday use, and while the action of the play is focused firmly on a scenario from the distant past, it's impossible not to be struck by the tactics used to break this spirited, if frequently infuriating, woman and consider how far we've come since then.